"You," He Said, "are A Terribly Real Thing In A Terribly False World, And That, I Believe, Is Why You

Hey, wanna fuck like it's going to cure our depression?

I hope I am not just a parasocial creature to you but also a fetish object or perhaps masturbatory subject

You being scared of me is what gets me off.

Apologetic rough cnc has me in a feral mood.

"I'm so sorry for hurting you like this baby, I just couldn't stand looking at you anymore. I had to know what your hole feels like. You're just too fucking pretty. I can't help it. It'll be over soon. I promise. Keep crying, god it's making me so fucking hard. I know it hurts, I can't stop, you're just so fucking tight. Please don't stop crying, I'm so fucking close baby. I know it hurts, you'll be okay darling. Your tears make me so fucking hard. I love hurting you so much. God, you're so fucking pretty."

i was looking at a old interview where someone asked "According to the numbers, not every letter from Emil-y is published in the book. Do these unpublished letters exist somewhere? May they ever be shared?" and ea replied saying there are hidden clues and that there are bits online hidden in secret links. are these links still available and if so how do you find them?

I assume the Goodreads Q&A is the interview you're referencing.

There are many links inside the eBook, but no hospital or asylum letters have been found. The only Asylum Letter currently missing from the book's index is Asylum Letter No. I, but that's because it's included inside of Hospital Entry 12: The First Note.

See the links and passwords list here.

drinking is about getting a little silly. it’s also about getting that primal feeling deep in your pelvis that you need to be fucked or you’re gonna die

cockwarming a werewolf to see how long they’ll last before they snap and pound me until I’m stretched around their fat knot

Someone is knocking at your door... You carefully check who is it through the peephole and you see a man wearing a skull mask staring at you.

Hickeys? Hot. Bite marks? Hotter. The imprint of my hands left on your wrists after pinning them so hard that it looks like a burn? Fucking perfect.